I see the sky and think "I'm free!"
I see my feet, "I'll never be."
I look back up, what do I see?
I see a plane, so itty bitty!
I see to fly, so gaily
I fetch my wallet... double bogey
I see "help wanted" within my city
I see my chance, so happy!
I work all day, live humbly
I see my pay, just barely
I see my goal, I cannot flee
tick-tock tick-tock
I count the years, more than sixty
I see the metal bird, ready for me
I see it fly, I see it's free
I buy my plane, I'm in the air
Wings on my back, no story to share

Terrifying façade,
long and tall, overpowering
but frail.
Ready to crumble and fall.

Snide wire intertwined,
exit wounds in the concrete flesh.
Each thorn stood to attention,
unwelcoming guards of the now unwanted.

Block after block
of relentless alleyways,
like a labyrinth of colossal gravestones.
The sky opens.

Water rattles bullet-like,
upon the once majestic city walls.
The cathedral moans its last hymn
as the steeple betrays itself.

The descent prevails.

For the same reasons that I stay hungry
for dinner and tired for bed, I keep my
heart a little lonely for poetry; that way,
I can imagine your weathered hands against
my pale thighs as clinging starfish – my
fingernails, bleached cockleshells washed up
on the barely evening beach of your back.